Maybe I mistook
your intent for
a calculated move
to cast me away
cast me aside
cast me off
a disposable way
to discard what you
no longer found useful.
What if you
wrenched your pain open
to release me,
ceding the pleasures and comforts that
tightly closed pods afford?
I no longer need to depend
upon the wind's inconsistent
whims or wait for someone
else to pick me.
Cast, seeded, I am free.
4 comments:
Now this seems to be a healthy way to look at it. (And you do it so beautifully, too---"Casted, seeded, I am free")
Very well written, Kathleen. I also really like the line Monica cites. (You could end the poem on that strong line.)
Thanks ladies. Yes, it is better ending it there. :) I see it.
So well said.
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